place; whilst Johnson and his companion, being the last comers, occupied the two seats at the bottom of the table, one on either side of Blaquart. The table itself looked exceedingly well, with its profusion of cut-glass and wax-lights, and the napkins folded and twisted into cocked-hats, fans, roses, fools' caps, and all kinds of fanciful shapes. Every person had also a handsome carafe of wine before him, which the English usually drank during dinner, and the French made to last for a fortnight-the property of each individual being designated by a card tied round the neck of the bottle, a piece of tape, or occasionally a small chaplet like a candle

ornament.

A pretty English girl, introduced to Mr. Ledbury as Miss Bernard, sat next to him, and her mother, an exceedingly fine lady in an appalling turban, opposite. Then, higher up, came Mr. Bernard, a good-tempered, John Bull sort of a man, whose observations drew down perpetual black looks and glances of condensed thunder from his wife; and on the other side was Mr. John Bernard, a very 'nice' young gentleman indeed, with his hair curled, and parted behind, a figured light-satin stock, and his wristbands turned over his coat, as if he had washed his hands when too late for dinner, and in the hurry forgotten to turn his cuffs down. M. Coquet, an old bachelor, who came there every day to dine, was placed opposite to Madame Provost, a very fine woman, with eyes and teeth like a hairdresser's doll in the Burlington Arcade, and about the same expression of countenance. Then higher up still was a young Frenchman of fortune-at least of fortune for a Frenchman-named Achille Derval, and facing him an Italian contessa, or any other rank Madame Legrange chose to give her for the setting-off her establishment, who did nothing but talk about her villa at Fiesolé, and make les grands yeux at her vis-à-vis, who was considerably her junior; and above them were several people, whose names and stations Mr. Ledbury could not catch from the distance. Altogether they sat down about twenty in number; and, taken one with another, like a bag of mixed biscuits, presented a pleasing variety. There was the usual confusion attendant upon their settling into their places; and then, when everybody had got their soup and finished it, the usual buzz of boarding-house conversation began. Blaquart inquired of Mrs. Bernard, in broken English, where she had been that day.

'Oh! we had a delightful walk to the Madeleine,' replied the lady, and returned by the Rue de Rivoli to the Place Vendôme. My friend, Mrs. De Robinson, of Eaton Place, recommended me to do so. What a noble square it is!'

'Don't see anything in it, my love,' interrupted Mr. Bernard.

'Young De Robinson says that there is nothing like it in London,' said Mr. John.

'Nonsense!' continued the father. Put the Nelson column into the middle of Euston Square; do away with the New Road, and knock down all the railings: then see what that would make. The only place worth going to is St. Cloud'

The last word was pronounced as spelt.

'My dear papa,' quietly observed Miss Bernard, I wish you would call it St. Clew.'

Why should I, Emma ?-it is St. Cloud. C. L. O. U. D. is

"cloud" all the world over, from the skies to a Turnham-Green omnibus.'

Mrs. Bernard looked as if she had eaten a capsicum in mistake.

Paris is a very interesting place,' said Mr. Ledbury to the young lady, picking up a little courage to speak without blushing-an acquisition which the grisettes had certainly taught him.

Oh, yes! I am so charmed with it l' exclaimed Miss Bernard, with much enthusiasm. Miss De Robinson said I should be.' 'I shall be very glad to get home,' said Mr. Bernard. I have not made one good dinner since I have been here-all wishy-washy messes. I was much happier before.'

You have been here before, sir?' asked Blaquart.

'Oui, moussou; after the peace: then I saw Paris indeed. I was at an English hotel. I came down to an English breakfast at ten; read an English paper until twelve; walked about the city with an English laquais-de-place until four; sat down to an English dinner at six; and was lighted to bed by an English chamber-maid at night. That's the way to see a foreign country properly. Here, Alphonse, Jacks--what's your name?-get me some of that reaude-ville,'

Plait-il, monsieur?' asked the attendant, not exactly comprehending him.

Mon père a besoin d'un petit pièce de vol-au-vent,' said Mr. John Bernard; looking towards Ledbury, as much as to say, ' Did you hear that, sir?' And then he passed his fingers through his hair, and amidst the convolutions of his satin stock, after the usual manner of very nice young gentlemen.

I think we have made the best use of our time,' observed Mrs. Bernard to the company in general.

Have you been to the Chaumière, ma'am?' asked Mr. Ledbury, perceiving nobody replied.

Oh dear, no l' ejaculated Mrs. Bernard, tossing her turban about like the ship on the head of the sailor who always chooses wet weather to sing in the streets. I believe it is a horridly low place!' Mr. Ledbury felt very awkwardly situated indeed.

We have some friends,' continued the lady, in Eaton Placeyou know the De Robinsons of Eaton Place, I suppose—at least by

name?'

It was evident that the De Robinsons were the great acquaintances of the Bernard family: everybody has De Robinsons in their circle. I have not that pleasure,' replied Mr. Ledbury.

Ah! that's a pity,' said Mrs. Bernard; they are most nice persons. They told me, when they were in Paris, some one wanted them to see the Chaumière; but they were glad they did not. The person who recommended it was nobody, as it turned out. He scribbled things, I believe, for his livelihood-quite unpresentable.'

Jack Johnson, who appeared to have turned his hand to everything in his lifetime, had once been a bit of an author himself, and this speech somewhat annoyed him.

'Dear, dear,' he thought, if the parvenu gentilities of London, -in most cases remarkably dummy people,-whose position in society is so nicely balanced between the exclusive and the vulgar, as to resemble a Logan-stone, which the slightest influence will incline either way, or tumble down altogether if these good people knew

how the scribblers' see through their struggles for copied display, like a piece of gauze, and in turn look down upon them, they would not be best pleased.

But Jack Johnson did not say a word of this. He merely remarked that, if travellers wished to observe the characteristics of a people, they should see every phase of life; but if they merely travelled for the sake of saying afterwards that they had been, or because everybody else did, the end was just as well answered by walking about the fashionable streets.

The septette at the bottom of the table had all their conversation to themselves; for the guests above them being all foreigners, placed a barrier between their communications as obstructive as a Jura customhouse. Mr. John Bernard now and then addressed a few words to Madame Provost; but, as she was principally occupied in playing the agreeable to Achille Derval, his attempts at gallant speeches did not create the sensation he desired, and he became silently dignified. M. Coquet, on the other side, finding himself next to the Countess,' was exerting himself to the utmost to be polite, and consequently did not say much to his neighbours; and the talk at the upper end of the table was kept up in one unceasing murmur, Madame Lagrange apparently answering the questions or replying to the remarks of everybody at once, whether relative to Duprez, Gavarnu's last sketch, Milord Seymour et ses bouldogues, Rachel, or the proceedings of the Chambre des Deputés.

The ladies retired when the dinner was over, and with them the majority of the gentlemen. Our friends, however, remained with the Bernards, the head of the family persisting in sitting to finish his bottle, as he would have done in England. Blaquart also kept his seat as croupier, and was particularly polite,-too much so for Jack Johnson,-laughing at all the jokes whether he understood them or

not.

'Do you go much on the river in London ?' asked Mr. John Bernard of Ledbury, with a patronizing air.

'Very frequently,' was the reply.

In a four or a six?'

'Generally in an iron steamer,' answered Mr. Ledbury.

'Oh!' said Mr. John; then you don't know any of the Leander

men?'

'I cannot say I do,' returned Mr. Ledbury; 'but I know some that belong to the "Thunder" and the "Bridesmaid." They are very civil.'

Mr. John Bernard here looked very contemptuously at Mr. Ledbury; upon which Jack Johnson whispered to his friend that if he, Mr. John Bernard, put on the same expression again, he would give him such an extraordinary kick, that he should keep it to take to the British Museum as a curiosity when he got home. And Mr. John Bernard, perceiving that his companion was irate, endeavoured to turn the conversation, and began talking about the sweet wagerboat which his friend young De Robinson had bought at Searle's, and then walked very grandly into the drawing-room, whither Blaquart followed him. Jack Johnson and Ledbury waited behind a little while, until Mr. Bernard had told them two very long and interesting anecdotes,-one about a large trout he had caught with a single gut; and the other about some certain partridges that got up

in a furze field, and flew over the road into a copse, where he brought down two of them. Then Jack Johnson, who never by any chance allowed himself to be outdone, related the story of his catching a porpoise in the Basingstoke canal; and Mr. Ledbury, warming with the subject and the wine, was commencing the account of an excellent morning's sport he had in the Serpentine, when the old gentleman went into a refreshing sleep, and our two friends into the drawing-room.

They found that several strangers had arrived since dinner, principally gentlemen, who were chatting and vandyking about the room, or paying French compliments to Madame Lagrange, who was making tea and coffee in a kind of boudoir attached to the salon. Miss Bernard, having been requested by her mamma to play that beautiful waltz which Miss De Robinson brought her from Berlin, was performing it very indifferently on the piano, under the delusion that she was entertaining her auditors; and the Countess having made an attack upon Derval, to the extreme wrath of Madame Provost, M. Coquet turned his attention to Mr. Ledbury. Our hero was enabled to understand what the Frenchman said tolerably well, as he spoke slowly; and they were now enjoying a disquisition upon the extreme politeness of the lower orders in England, their love of refined amusements, and the superlative gaiety of a London Sunday. As soon as tea was finished, a few card-tables were placed about the room, and several couples commenced playing écarté. Blaquart was most anxious that Johnson and Ledbury should form a party at the game; but they steadfastly refused, apparently much to his chagrin, although he still kept up his extreme politeness.

Whilst the usual guests of the house were in the room, the play was exceedingly limited; but when M. Lagrange arrived, about ten o'clock, fresh games were immediately formed, and in twenty minutes nearly the whole of the company were occupied in playing or betting, and the tables were soon covered with rouleaus of Napoleons and five-franc pieces.

'I expected as much,' said Johnson quietly to Ledbury. This place, although ostensibly a pension, is in reality a private gamblinghouse.'

'What makes you think so?'

The style of the players. We were evidently invited to be pigeoned. I can see the set is at present made at Derval, and the Countess," as they call her, is playing with him.'

Do you know écarté?' asked young Bernard of Johnson.

'I have no objection to a game or two with you,' replied Jack; 'but I should not like to mix with the others. The French seem to have a most singular luck in turning up the king.'

Mr. John Bernard crossed the room to get a pack of cards, and Jack whispered to Ledbury,

'Now see me take the shine out of him. I wanted the chance.' They sat down together and played a few games, Ledbury looking on, and perfectly contented in being permitted to score for Jack Johnson on a piece of card cut into snips and angles, which fashion that inventive gentleman had borrowed from an estaminet in the Quartier Latin. At length Mr. John found himself so continuously losing, that he began to complain of a headache as an excuse for leaving off.

"Tis the vin ordinaire,' said Jack Johnson, 'you may depend upon it. I thought you took too much at dinner.'

Mr. John Bernard was indignant at the idea that anybody who went on the river in London, and knew some of the Leander men, could allow vin ordinaire to have any effect upon him.

'It cannot be that wretched stuff,' he replied.

It is a great deal stronger than you think for,' said Jack; and you would find it so if you drank it quickly, instead of taking your time about it.'

'I don't see what that has to do with it,' observed Mr. John.

'Now, look here,' continued Johnson; I'll bet you fifteen or twenty francs that I make the whole of this pack of cards into "pancakes" before you can drink off a half-pint tumbler of Chablis.'

'Oh, nonsense!

robbery.'

I would not take the bet; it would be downright

As you like. Will you bet twenty francs?'

Mr. John Bernard, who had lost about that sum to Jack Johnson, thought there would be no great harm in getting his money back again, so said that he would make the wager.

'But you will give me good wine?' he asked.

'You shall choose it yourself,' was the reply, 'and I will drink some first.'

Ledbury being appointed a witness of the bet, Jack left the room, and procured the Chablis from the butler. He then invaded the kitchen, and having established himself instantaneously in the favour of all the servants, by paying them a collective compliment, and kissing Madame Provost's femme de chambre, he got the cook to heat a tumbler full of the wine until it was nearly boiling, and with this he returned into the drawing-room.

'Are you ready?' he inquired of Mr. John Bernard.

'Perfectly.'

'Then fire away,' said Jack; but don't spill any over that pretty stock, because it would be a pity. You'll find the wine rather warm; but I presume that it is of no consequence. We made no agreement as to temperature-it was merely as to quality.'

As Jack rapidly began to make the cards into pancakes, Mr. Bernard put his lips to the wine, and saw that he was 'done;' but still, thinking that he might yet accomplish the task within time, he attempted to swallow it. He sipped, and sneezed, and winced, and coughed,—his eyes watered, and his throat appeared losing its skin, but all to no avail. Jack's agile fingers completed their task before the tumbler was half emptied, and he tossed the last pancake upon the table in triumph as he added,

'I'll trouble you for twenty francs.'

There was no getting out of it, and Mr. John Bernard's anger at losing his money was only exceeded by the feeling of humbled importance which he experienced. Throwing the money on the table with a very bad grace, he marched out of the room without saying a word to anybody; but inwardly putting Jack Johnson down as a swindler, and determining upon his return home to see if he could not retrieve his loss by taking in young De Robinson, or some of the Leander men, in the same manner.

During all this time the play had been proceeding at the other tables; and Ledbury and Johnson turned towards one of them to